I awoke this morning at 8:30--late for me--drowsy and listless. I rolled out of bed, feeling as if I’ve lost something or missed an important engagement.

But what?

As I stumbled from my bedroom to the kitchen, boiled the kettle for my first cup of coffee and fired up my laptop, I pondered this question, unable to find an answer, yet unable to shake the feeling of something lost. I blinked, stared at the screensaver, blinked again, and a million images flashed across the screen of my mind.

Broome. Sunshine. Sand. Surf. Cicadas. Cable Beach. Camels. Palm trees. Boab Trees. Seashells Resort. Gantheaume Point. Anastasia’s Pool. Dinosaur footprints. Crocodiles. Streeter’s Jetty. Old Zoo Café. Matso’s.

On this day of the year--the second Sunday of January--for the past sixteen years, I’ve risen around 4:00 a.m., showered, dressed, gulped down a cup of coffee, stuffed suitcases in the car and hit the road. Today was the day I normally headed for Tullamarine Airport, boarded a plane around 8:30 and winged towards Broome.

But not this year.

This year, because of financial constraints, this wasn’t going to happen.

As I sat back, sipped my coffee, I pondered my options. Best case scenario: I can always re-read ‘Broometime Serenade’ and lose myself in its pages. Once again, I’ll be back in Broome, enjoying sun, surf and sand and the millions of other experiences, never really lost as long as I have my memories.

Cheers everyone.

Broometime Serenade